


onde a terra mata ó mar, onde a néboa come ó sol

by missveils (Missveils)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Avvar, Avvar Culture and Customs, F/F, Fade Dreams, Historical, Legends, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26223454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missveils/pseuds/missveils
Summary: They call the flowers Andraste’s Grace in Ferelden. In the Frostback Mountains, they are rarer.When the Avvar girls race each other up the cliffs on the spring solstice, to be the first to pluck the blossoms, they call them the Lady’s Kiss.
Relationships: The Lady of the Skies/Tyrdda Bright-Axe
Comments: 17
Kudos: 16
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	onde a terra mata ó mar, onde a néboa come ó sol

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RipplesOfAqua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipplesOfAqua/gifts).



> _por sempre libres, mais sós.  
>  face de verde orballar,  
> neste chao de pedra mol,  
> canta a bruma do solpor._
> 
> (title & lyrics from [de bruma e salitre](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfITFptQPCI) a galician folk metal song that always has me thinking about tyrdda ='))

They call the flowers Andraste’s Grace in Ferelden. In the Frostback Mountains, they are rarer. 

When the Avvar girls race each other up the cliffs on the spring solstice, to be the first to pluck the blossoms, they call them the Lady’s Kiss.

They say that they have to climb the mountain barefoot, just before sunrise. They tell the stories of where the first blossoms flowered. 

It is said that the battle had raged from the moment the sun had fallen behind the horizon until the moon started to fade in the morning sky. Surrounded on all sides, weary and bloody, Tyrdda, who would be known as Bright-Axe, Avvar-mother, called forth the rage of the elements around her, and her enemies fell defeated. 

Freshly-wounded, she trailed blood behind her. A silver-feathered arrow pointing to the sky from her chest.

She was to die alone on the battlefield. No-one would be there to carry her body to the ravens. So she dragged herself up from the ground and made her way up the mountain on ragged breaths. With her boots left behind in the mud of the battlefield, she climbed the cliffs with bare hands and feet. 

And on the summit, she laid to rest. 

Before she exhaled her last breath, in the light of the sun peeking through the mist, she saw the form of an elven woman. Brighter than the dawn, lighter than the mist, laugh like birdsong, Tyrdda knew this spirit was the Lady of the Skies, coming to take her to the heavens. 

Still, when Tyrdda outstretched her arms, the Lady held her hand gently and placed it over her heart. 

“I see your pain, I have seen your power, brave Tyrdda. I have seen how you care for your people. If you wish to live, I will heal your wounds, and guide your path by your side.”

And at Tyrdda’s faint response, the Lady of the Skies placed a kiss on her forehead.

And when Tyrdda stood back on her feet, the Lady of the Skies guided her to what would become her mythical crystal staff. 

And in the spot where Tyrdda’s wounds were healed, white flowers stained with her blood blossomed. 

Avvar girls say that the scent of the flowers braided in their hair will lead their lover to them, will protect them from harm. 

Tyrdda spoke with leaf-eared spirit, walked with her in dreams, where her hair shone like the sun in the mornings, and was speckled with stars at night. 

As the days went by Tyrdda’s heart beat with love for the Lady of the Skies, a love that burned with fire brighter than devotion. But that same love prevented her from ever speaking it into words, afraid that it would break the respect she felt for her. 

Wise Lady of the Skies, saw through her silences, and ran a hand through Tyrdda’s hair. Her touch more like a summer breeze than flesh. 

“You can speak your feelings,” she said. 

“I don’t know how to speak to you like that.”

“You will sing the praises of the gods but do not know how to speak of love?”

The Lady’s laugh chimed like bells, and Tyrdda started to sing to their music. She sang of the rosy skies at dawn, and the aurora in the cold winter nights, she ang of the birds singing in spring, and the constellations shimmering in the skies. 

She sang of the Lady’s beauty, of the Lady’s wisdom, of the sweet dreams she had woven for her. 

As she sang, red and white flowers bloomed around them.

As she sang, the Lady of the Skies braided the blossoms into Tyrdda’s hair. 

When her song ended, the cheeks of the brave warrior were bright and red. 

When her song ended, her lips found her leaf-eared lover’s lips.

Avvar girls will save a pressed flower from their wedding and carry it next to their hearts for the rest of their life. They say this will guide them to their lover after their ascension to the skies. 

Bright-eyed, Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Avvar Mother, awoke in dream warm like the hearth. Her lover awaited, with her star-speckled hair. Their arms wrapped around each other, finally together, never again apart. 

“Walk with me,” said the Lady of the Skies. 

And hand in hand, they waded emerald oceans, traversed impossible forests, kissed under the arches of golden cities. In an eternal dream, Tyrdda finally rested, having led her people to prosperity, leaving a legacy behind, remembered as mother to all Avvar. 

And as the ravens carried her to the heavens, a flock of them flew away with the blossoms she had worn around her head. They built their nests with her flowers, protecting their chicks just as Tyrdda had protected her people. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for requesting this! when i saw the ship on the list i knew i had to write a treat for this one!


End file.
